


Empty Mirrors and Empty Graves

by Sphinxriddle



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twins, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Cats, Gen, Siblings, Temporary Character Death, minet is king of the flat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29036685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sphinxriddle/pseuds/Sphinxriddle
Summary: A Vampire Themed au short story involving two my major oc's Alexois (or well Alexander here) and Danica Voss starting with Alexois' self reflection following his embrace into Clan Lasombra.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Empty Mirrors and Empty Graves

**Author's Note:**

> And thus it begins, Four Chapters of Chaos

Icy water splashed hard against an even cooler face, a shaky exhale followed as the water pooled a tepid rusty pink in the ceramic bowl of the sink. Strange, what living habits clung to a dead man’s body, like memories fused to him with glue that spurned him to tears, yet twisted the salty brine that would have flowed from his eyes to a sickly vital red. 

Alexander thought then that he should be laughing. That he should be cackling in victory over those who attempted to see him for their own personal gain, his father, his grandfather, this new vampiric patron who called himself sire. Yet his mind recognized in this end he was once again the true victim, but neither his mind nor his heart could contort the man’s memories to make them spell that out for him. Stubborn as always. Just like his sister. 

If he hadn’t known of the particularities of this curse, his curse, he may have tried to rationalize the ashy smudge that greeted him instead of his own tired, gaunt face in the mirror. It would have been in vain, as he knew better, he knew mirrors didn’t break like that. Hell he probably would have spent hours trying to scrub clean imaginary grime just to see his dead mossy green eyes. He always thought the color of rot suited him. Beyond that mournful rumination though, he also knew without his reflection, he looked a right mess if his sire, that figure of ruthlessness and shadows he met only a handful of times, counting his own death, saw him like this his new eternity would be over before it even began. 

So he returned to those empty habits he had once relied upon so much, inhaled deeply, straightened his shoulders, and ran cold hands across his face to remove the bloody tears tracks that dug their way there as best as he could with a smudgy mess as his guide. Another splash of water just in case, and another for good measure, and then a third till the pool was clear and he was sure the relics of his weakness swirled down the drain, relics of shame he would never share. If he is to live forever, he would not allow it to be in vain.

“What do you want with me?” Terse words from an estranged sister echoed through his memory as he dried his face. “Arn’t you afraid dear old dad’ll axe you too, Alex?” She had hissed across a tiny cafe table that was more splinters held together with gorilla glue than actual wood then. Cross legged, angry and closed off, as he expected, but with sharp green eyes and new scars he didn’t remember being there last time he saw her. Those five years had changed them both so much. Then, he wondered if there was still anything left to save, left to salvage of their friendship. 

He laughed then, a bitter biting thing that painted fear across his twin sister’s face, only to be replaced with sadness once its teeth were fully in her skin. A heavy silence hung around them in it’s wake, as if his cooling tea and her hot chocolate turned glorified chocolate milk were iron weights around their legs, dragging them to the ocean floor. 

He threw a clean black dress shirt over his shoulders and began to button it. Blinking away fresh bloody tears that threatened to spill over his still damp cheeks and the bittersweet memory in equal measure. As the visage of her hand reaching across that rough wooden sea to grasp his own terrified digits swelled in his minds, he paused.

“I’ve missed you so much, Dee.” Whispered words repeated from those recollections to nothing but the cold empty air around him. He dug his teeth into his lips, for he feared he was on the verge of sobbing once more. Once was more than enough for a night, thank you.

Oh if only he hadn’t traveled to this damn city on the guise of looking for school,only to actually be looking for her. If only he had taken the token acceptances thrown his way by those big name medical schools, all thanks to their father’s well placed donations and not in any way thanks to the intellect he believed he had. If only he hadn’t spent every cent he earned on his own looking for his best friend that had been chased from their childhood by the bastard that sired them both, guilty only of the crime of dreaming. 

Perhaps then, they would still be truly alive. 

And not one unbreathing corpse masquerading as a living man, and the other... 

He dabbed a cold hand against his eyes, fearing the weakness of his resolve.  _ Now is not the time to reflect, Alexander. _ He chastised himself bitterly, his own tone harsh.  _ And even if it was, what would she think, seeing you now? Seeing you like this? A broken shell of a broken shell, huddling in his home not even willing to try this new gift out. _

She’d tell him to relax, to lighten up. She’d ask about his class work and bring one of the animals she was fostering to sit on his lap. That’s how he ended up with Minet, wasn’t it? A loud meow near his feet confirmed his idle musings. Red eyes looking down into one cat-like yellow one, upon a sea of black fur interrupted only by a terribly gaudy red collar and its pretty little bell. 

The vampire sniffled, kneeling down and giving the kitten a faint but honest grin. Ah his dear little constant. He found himself drawing his cold hands through soft fur and humming gently as the small cat began to purr. 

“Ah, so deep in my melancholy I forgot the most important job in my days!” A chuckle echoed in the cool air, and was answered by another dignified meow. “Yes, yes, I know. Food is late, let’s go my dear one.”

“He’s friendly Alex, I promise.” Danica chuckled, her sing songy voice not exactly inspiring confidence, as she held a small black bundle of fur and claws close to her chest. He hadn’t even looked up then, far too stressed out over his classwork, a med student more anxiety and coffee than flesh and blood at the present. He had more in common with the scattered cups of the stuff over his sisters home that he did her at the moment. \

“Last time I checked, tiny felines were not a requirement for me to pass my finals.” He had snipped up at her then, only to be met in turn with a very loud, very squeaky, and most definitely disappointed meow. Thankfully it was jarring enough to force the crooked man to right his posture and gaze at the single defiant eye of the feline now held ungracefully out towards him. 

"It's not, but it'll be good for what remains of you  _ after _ said finals big brother"

"I'm only like two minutes older , Dee."

"And that's the first time you haven't lorded it over me, now hold the damn cat and relax Alex."

The loud, metallic jingle of kibble into a custom red bowl, the same shade as that tacky collar, rescued the dead man from the clutches of his memories once more. Following suit was a very content and loud purr from the aforementioned Minet, King of the Flat, as he completely forgot about Alexander, Owner of the Flat, and dove straight into his food with a vigor he showed little else. Another shakey, yet unneeded, exhale left the vampire. This time at least sounding something akin to a weak wheezy chuckle and not a barely restrained sob. 

Good kitty. 

Very good kitty.

Alexander Voss gave the fluffy menace a few polite yet ignored pats before standing and facing his evening once again. He did have orders after all, and what else had he been his entire life but a loyal, dutiful, gopher for his father and his father’s goals. Why would that change in death? 

The comedy was not lost on him, given the orders this time were “Go, enjoy yourself for a night.” As if he even knew where to start! A bitter laugh erupted from him, consuming the silence of the apartment like a mad hungry flame. Lingering in the expanse of once pleasant memories, turning them to ash in his mouth, was definitely not a good start.

But he would not fail, not again. Not at any task.

So even with the added “difficulty” of not being able to see himself in the mirror, he silently swore to his reflection that he would forge himself anew of black shadowy steel. He would be a tool for himself, not for this new vampiric father he found himself beholden to, not for the visible ghosts of his first victims and the invisible ghost of his sister, but for himself. A revolutionary statement in his mind that would take some getting used to, and a great deal of planning to accomplish.

With the weight of his memory as the ink upon the paper of his oath, and the cold wind beyond his door the dust sprinkled upon it, he now just needed to find the wax and the stamp and it would be eternal.. As he twisted the polished silver door handle of the apartment, he closed his eyes. A stillness taking him as he silently considered this new plan brewing in the blackness in his mind. 

He shoots a careful glance back at Minet over his shoulder as the cold winter wind knocked at his coat and mussed his long, unkempt ponytail. The one eyed feline, for his part, licked at his paws absently, full from his regal meal and oblivious to his servants troubles.

“I’ll be back.”

His words were largely ignored, but the flittering familiar shades at the edge of his vision seemed to nod, almost in approval. Strange from such stern faces, barely perceivable in the messed watercolor of their forms, but still uniquely themselves. 

Facing forward, he inhaled, the last act of his old dying world, and faced a new beginning.. A pang of thirst in his gut forced a strange wolfish smile upon his face, sharp toothed and hungry. First goal of the evening, of his first free night, find a drink.

He would need the energy for what he had planned.


End file.
